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From: writerzblocked@aol.com (Writerzblocked)
Subject: {ASSM} I FOUGHT THE LAW, AND...  5.2(mc)
Date: Wed,  9 May 2001 16:10:02 -0400
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I FOUGHT THE LAW, AND ... 5.2(mc)


Copyright by Writerzblocked, 2001.  All rights, well, you know. Repost and
archive to your heart's content, just don't charge anyone for it or I'll have
to send Harry Long after you. You all know the rest of the drill by now.  I'm
not
big on headers and/or labels, so anyone reposting may feel free to add whatever
MF, MM, FF stuff they think is necessary.  

********************************************

{Authors note:   We now take a break from hearing Warren Bandan talk in order
to bring you a totally different point of view - sorta.  If you don't like it,
feel free to ignore it; the big-headed, egocentric, sadistic, big-mouthed jerk
will be back in action in a month or so.  Apologies to MM and CJ - but not
many}


Tuck Amuck (Part 2)


Stopped at a red light, Detective Amanda Tuck retrieved a briefcase from the
passenger seat and removed some files and assorted paperwork.  At the bottom of
the briefcase lay a cassette tape.  She stared at it for a few moments.

Then suddenly, the shrill sound of a car horn behind her brought her eyes back
to the road in front of her, and she slowly started through the intersection. A
moment later, she found herself at yet another stop light and her eyes turned
back to the tape.  She extended her hand slowly towards it, then drew it back
to the steering wheel.  Drawing a deep breath, she accelerated once again with
the light change.

She flicked some ashes from the lit cigarette out of the window, then reached
into the case and retrieved the tape.  She looked at it with one eye for a
moment, then finally popped it into the car's tape deck and drew another long
drag from the cigarette, exhaling the smoke with a long sigh. 

At the next stop light, she pressed the PLAY button on the tape deck. 
Immediately, the car was filled with the soft, crisp, sound of static, quickly
followed by a series of sharp edit clicks, then silence once again.  As she
took another drag, a voice suddenly came alive from the speakers.

"Hey, Mr. '70s Cop Show Sergeant, I'm gonna take your cute friend here into my
alley and introduce her to Mr. Chuckles!!  If you know what's good for you,
you'll just keep eating your donuts for another 15 minutes or so before you
come looking for her!"

Tuck's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly with one hand as she drove on,
cigarette ashes softly swirling around the inside of the Grand Am...

Fifteen minutes later, Amanda Tuck pulled into the parking garage for the 15th
precinct, parked her vehicle and entered the building. She held a briefcase and
a used wet wipe in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other.  She was
breathing heavily. Putting down the case against a trash can, she balled up the
wet wipe and dropped it into the waste container. Then she took a cell phone
from her handbag and punched a number. 

"Hello, Mario?" she spoke into the phone.  "Yeah, I'm at the 15th now, getting
ready to interview Crowley and Dias. Well, it was...interesting. I think she
really needs to see a department shrink. We'll have to schedule her again,
because I didn't get enough. I can't go into it over the phone, but it was one
of the scariest things I've seen. Haven't been the same since. I'll tell you
about it later this afternoon."

She walked over to an ashcan and put out the cigarette butt. 

"What?  Oh, no, I can't fucking believe it! Why don't you tell him to kiss your
ass?  But I don't WANT to interview Davenport alone!  YOU'RE the one with all
the connections down there. I think there might be something funny going on
with her too. I think a nurse at the hospital saw her visiting with his lawyer
yesterday. I don't care, there's no way I can ... sigh.  All right, all right. 
I'll meet you at Roxy's and brief you there.  About sevenish?  Sure."

She put the phone between her neck and her ear as she dug in her handbag.  

"Oh, and Mario? Can we talk about two nights ago?  Yeah, me too. I just have to
have someone to talk to about it.  Yeah, OK, so maybe it IS a woman thing. I've
just been feeling so ... yeah, kind of like that, but today it's been
especially bad. So be sure you remember to BRING me something tonight to make
up for it.  hehe.  Yeah, that would work just fine.  Oooh, that sounds great.
Well, listen, I've got to go. Tell Phil to get someone else to do it next time.
You need to remind him who's boss.  Damn right, Mister and don't you forget it.
Bye. See you tonight."

She smiled as she lit another cigarette and proceeded into the precinct.

"First of all, let me thank you two for taking the time for this today," Amanda
Tuck was glancing through a file as she spoke, "I realize you both filed
reports and have been over this several times with your immediate superior, but
there seem to be some...discrepancies between your statements and some of the
physical evidence in this case."

Officers Crowley and Dias were sitting on the opposite end of the table,
spending most of their time looking at the clock on the wall or their watches
or the large mirror on the far wall - everywhere except in the general
direction of Amanda Tuck. 

"Mostly, I'm interested in the 15 minutes between the time that the suspect
announced through the wire that he was going to introduce Officer Hooper to...a
"Mr. Chuckles" and the time that the two of you arrived on the crime scene. 
According to your reports, you said you spent that time trying to ascertain the
exact location of Officer Hooper.  I find that difficult to believe,
considering that your car was stationed only two blocks away."

Dias looked at Crowley. Crowley looked at Dias. They both looked at their
watches.  Again.

Amanda Tuck sighed. "OK, guys. I'm going to go off the record here.  Your
lieutenant is convinced there's no reason to bring IA into this, but I'm not so
sure. And the Chief and the DA are going to pay more attention to me than they
will to your boss.  We already know that this surveillance tape is already all
over this precinct and probably a few others by now. Hell, I've even heard it a
few times myself."

Both Crowley and Dias tried to hide their smiles at that, but Tuck was having
none of it.  She reorganized the files in front of her and frowned.

"This is certainly NOT funny, Officers. A police officer has been raped here."

Crowley looked at her peculiarly. "Have you talked with Sally yet?" 

"Yes, this morning, in fact."

He shrugged.  "Well, yesterday she told us she wasn't going to press charges."

Tuck stopped shuffling and looked up, surprised.  "Uh, she didn't mention it to
me this morning.  And, that's beside the point, in any case.  It's not her
decision once it's been reported and filed."

Dias clasped his hand together on the table.  "In fact, she told us the punk
did her a favor.  Something about giving her something to live for."

Tuck bent one of the files over in half as she stood up abruptly and turned
towards the mirror.  "She's not ... well.  I see it all the time in these kinds
of sexual assaults."

Crowley looked at Dias nonchalantly.  "She seemed fine yesterday.  Better than
I've ever seen her, really.  And the wife and I have known her quite a while."

Dias nodded.  "Yep. She even said something about closure and going to visit
the punk in the hospital..."

Tuck's face went from red to white as she suddenly turned to the pair.  "What
the hell...?  Did you try and stop her?"

They both shrugged at once.

"Why? Asked Dias. "The guy's in a coma.  Hell, Gilbert and I even went down
there to get one last look at him before he croaks."

Tuck threw the folder down on the desk.  "Has the whole fucking department gone
crazy?! Am I the only one who thinks this guy is still dangerous?  The nurse
told me he could come out of it at any time."

Crowley looked at her suspiciously.  "When did you hear that?"

Tuck reached for her handbag. "Just this morning.  Why?"

Dias leaned back in his chair. "You mean you went to see him too?"

"Sure. Part of the investigation.  I had to talk to his lawyer."  She sat back
down and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the bag.

Dias leaned over the table, his voice lowering to almost a whisper. "How was
he?"

Tuck drew out a cigarette and passed it between her fingers nervously.  "What
do you mean?"

Crowley answered with another question.  "Was he still pale?  Breathing
regularly?"

Tuck put the fag in her mouth, but her eyes were scanning the room and settled
on the "No Smoking" sign.  "Yeah, I guess.  Why the hell do you care?"

Crowley leaned back in his chair and half-smiled, as if embarrassed.  "Well,
we...kinda...well, we owe him, is what it is."

Dias grabbed a lighter from his pocket and leaned over the table.  "It's OK,
Tuck.  We ain't gonna say anything," he whispered as he lit her cigarette.  "We
can see now we're all on the same side here."

Tuck took a long, first drag and exhaled into the air in the general direction
of the "No Smoking" sign. "I don't know if I like the direction this is going,
guys. Are you actually telling me that you somehow have come to like this guy?"

The two of them looked at each other sideways and smiled knowingly, as if
sharing an untold secret.  "Well," Dias replied, "there are times when we start
remembering things we forgot. Kinda like a dream, but real."

Crowley continued.  "Like when we went to see him yesterday. Suddenly we start
remembering all sorts of really great stuff that happened we didn't know about
before."

Tuck rolled her eyes, but took another long drag and nodded.  "OK, like what?"

Crowley's face went red.  "Well, it's not something I'd normally talk about,
but I kinda feel OK with you, seeing as how you've seen him, you know?" 

At that, she put her lips tightly around the cigarette and nodded, her shoes
shuffling uncomfortably underneath the table. 

"Well," Crowley started, "for one thing, I remember something that happened in
the squad car on the way to the station.  It seemed almost like a dream, but
when I mentioned it to Sally on the phone last night she said she couldn't stop
thinking about it either..."

Tuck took another drag, and stretched out, massaging her neck with her left
hand before dropping it back beneath the table.  "So, how do you know it wasn't
just a bad dream?"

"Well, Crowley half-smiled, his face turning redder as he tapped his hands
under the table.  "Well, for one thing, I wouldn't call it a BAD dream.  And
it's kinda funny that Sally and I would have the same exact dream."

"OK, we'll assume it wasn't a dream, then.  What was it and why haven't you put
it in your report?" she said, rolling the smoke around to the corner of her
mouth.  

His hands stopped tapping and he smiled broadly.  "Well, it's not something the
department would find very professional. And I don't want to get Sally in any
trouble."

"Hmmmmm," Tuck managed, taking the cigarette out and grinding it down into a
part of the table.  "I can't believe what I'm hearing, Officer Crowley.  You
mean to tell me that you and Officer Hooper had sex AFTER she was raped?"

"Well, not really," he said, the smile still there. "Well, not like REAL sex if
you know what I mean."

She fiddled with her handbag, managing to get it open with one hand. "No, I
don't know what you mean, Officer Crowley.  Why don't you try and explain it to
me?"

Dias leaned over the table and reached for her handbag. "Here, Miss Tuck, allow
me," he said, retrieving the pack of cigarettes and drawing one out. 

"Thank you, Sergeant.  Now, Officer Crowley, please continue," she said as Dias
handed her the cigarette. 

"Well," he started as she put the unlit cigarette in her mouth, "this punk was
handing us the line about Sally saying she thought I was too old to...well, you
know if you've heard the tape. Then the next thing I know, she's leaning over
in the seat and...well, unzipping me."

At that, Tuck shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "OK, Officer Crowley, let me
see if I get this straight.  You're telling me that on the way back from the
scene of the rape, Officer Hooper..."

"Sally," Crowley interrupted.  Her name is Sally."

Tuck gave a long sigh, but the smoke stayed put.  "OK, whatever.  Now, you're
telling me that on the way back from the crime scene, Sally Hooper fellated
you?"

"Well, yes and no," he replied, his left hand moving from below the table to
loosen his tie.

"What do you mean, 'yes and no'?" she asked, her right hand moving up to
scratch her nose. 

"It wasn't just a blow job, Miss Tuck, it was the BEST damned blow job I've
EVER had."

Tuck bit her upper lip unconsciously during the moment of silence that
followed. Dias leaned over the table with his lighter. She waved him off,
taking the cigarette from her mouth and holding it in her right hand as she
wiped her forehead. 

"This is very disturbing" she said finally.  "Does your lieutenant know about
this?"

"No," Dias answered. At least, I don't THINK so."

She looked at him with puzzlement. "What do you mean?" she asked as she put the
unlit cigarette back in her mouth.

Gilbert interjected.  "He means, we didn't tell her, but she went and saw him
yesterday too."

Her mouth dropped open, but the cigarette stayed put.  "I guess I ought to be
surprised, but I think I'm beyond that now."

"Hey," Dias said, "I guess she wanted to see if he could help her remember too.
 After all the attitude he gave her in the box that night..."

At that, Gilbert Crowley broke into a halting chuckle.  "hehe, don't you
mean...the shit he gave ALL of us in the box...that night?"

The two men looked at each other as if sharing a private, unspoken joke.  Tuck
was shaking her head back and forth and moving the cigarette around in her
mouth.  "OK, guys, what's so funny about that night in the box."

Dias, the sly smile still on his face, started. "Well, we'd just gotten him
booked and fingerprinted and got him in the box to start the interrogation.  I
don't know how, but it got back to the two-way mirror and this guy'd obviously
seen enough cop shows to know what it was all about."

Dias turned to Gilbert to continue, but Gilbert gave a small sigh and shook his
head for Dias to continue.  "So, he asks who's on the other side of the window
and we tell him it was our lieutenant.  Then he makes this crack about how she
got her job, and suddenly she busts into the room and shows him who's boss."

Gilbert was breathing deeply now.  "Heh, then...well, yeah...she showed us ALL
who's boss."

Tuck shifted again in her chair.  "What...the hell are you...talking about,
Officer...Crowley" she said slowly and haltingly.

"Oh, Geez," he started. I...don't think I can...well," he mumbled, glancing at
Dias. "He can tell it...better."

"Well," Dias smiled, looking intently at Amanda Tuck.  He started softly, but
deliberately, as if choosing his words very carefully. "She came bursting in
the room, yelling at us and bitching at us about how we were screwing up the
interrogation."

Crowley had his eyes closed now, but was nodding along with his Sergeant, his
body rocking back and forth in his chair.

"Then she told us how we weren't worthy of conducting an investigation.  Not
worthy of being in the same room as her.  Not being in the same planet as her."

"So, Amanda Tuck" interrupted.  You're telling me that, that your...superior
dressed you down...in front of...a suspect."  The cigarette was close to
falling out of her mouth now.

"No, Amanda," he continued slowly, smiling almost maniacally now, his voice
lowering to a soft staccato and his eyes locked on hers, "I'm telling you that,
in the matter of a few minutes, she had Gilbert there chewing on her clittie
while I was cleaning her asshole with my tongue."

The cigarette fell to the table, but none of three could hear it, because at
precisely that moment, Officer Gilbert Crowley let out a loud moan.  "Fuck!" he
exclaimed, as his feet stamped down on the floor in rapid succession.  Amanda
Tuck's hands suddenly rose and started shuffling quickly through the files as
she tried unsuccessfully to gather them all together. 

And at precisely that time, a very large bundle of black energy burst into the
room as naturally as if she'd been doing it all her life.  

"Damn you two, can't you little fucks do ANYTHING right?!!" the lieutenant
yelled as she placed one very large black hand on the left shoulder of one
Amanda Tuck.  The other one went straight to the white woman's left wrist as
she grabbed it, brought the attached hand up to her flaring nostrils and
breathed deeply. 

"Just like a white woman to beat around the bush in my interrogation room!"
Then she pointed at Crowley, who was busy wiping himself on his uniform.  "I
expect it from these clowns, but not from a REAL detective!"

Then she bent down and lowered her face directly into the face of the shocked
Amanda Tuck. Her hand still gripping the smaller woman's wrist, she led it back
down under the table and guided it back to where it had been just moments ago.

"Let me tell you how it REALLY went down, Missus White Cunt. This little
hoodlum Bandan is the absolute BEST pussy licker I've ever met and I've had
more than my share of 'em. You can play with yourself all you want, but you
ain't NEVER gonna have a cum like you'll get from him." 

She removed her hand from Amanda's shoulder and wrapped it around the stunned
woman's face as she drew her lips closer. "He's like a fucking God, you see -
he gives you whatever the hell you want and some things you don't even KNOW you
want."

Her hand guided the woman's face towards Crowley and Dias as she whispered in
her ear.  "Take little shit Dias over there. He's known he's a faggot since he
was a kid but it took Bandan to get him to finally come clean."

The big woman's hand came from beneath the table.  Amanda's did not. As she
continued whispering, the black amazon grabbed Amanda's handbag and dropped it
in her lap. "And Crowley's wife has never been happier now that the little fuck
can finally get it up and keep it up."   

The lieutenant moved behind the white woman and gently caressed her neck as she
continued in the same low, but threatening tone. "And me? Well, I got two or
three young things back home that just LOVE it when I play rough."

She bent down further and nibbled on Amanda's ear and her hands closed slowly
around her neck. "Do YOU want me to play rough, Little Missus White Cunt?" 

Amanda mumbled something inaudible and the black woman's hands moved roughly
down her neck and over the smaller woman's breasts, and squeezed hard.  

"Because if you ever, and I mean EVER decide to come after him, I'm gonna come
down on you so fucking hard that you're going to be crying out my name in the
middle of the night for the rest of your miserable life."

Then she breathed heavily on Amanda's neck and licked her right ear lobe. "Do
we understand one another, LIttle Missus White Cunt detective?" she whispered. 

Amanda could do nothing but moan softly and nod.  

The large woman threw both of her arms around Amanda from behind and lifted her
out of the chair, managing to grab the handbag with two fingers.  Amanda's left
hand was pinned underneath her pants and was still moving slowly, which drew a
chuckle from both Dias and Crowley.  The lieutenant carried Tuck to the door
and let her down just inside it. As she did, she whispered a parting.

"Now, get the hell out of my precinct and if I ever see you again, it damn well
better be on your fucking knees."

Amanda hurried down the corridor, out of the building and out into the parking
lot as fast as she could walk. Fumbling through her handbag, she managed to get
out her keys only to drop them on the pavement.  Bending down to pick them up,
she noticed two uniformed precinct officers staring at her.  Standing back up,
she adjusted her pants and hurriedly opened the car door and threw herself into
the driver's seat.  Digging around under the seat for the open carton of
cigarettes and finally finding it, she ripped open a pack and put one in her
mouth as she pushed in the lighter knob.  Then she grabbed her phone out of the
handbag and pressed a button.  

"Damn!  C'mon, Mario?! Fucking voice mail!! Jesus, Mario, pick up the fucking
phone! Fuck. Sorry about that, Mario.  Can't fucking believe you're still in
that goddamn meeting! Shit!  Sorry about the profanity, but I just fucking got
my life threatened!  Hurry up and call me back!  Please!" 

She pressed another button on the phone, then threw it against the far door of
the Grand Am. Grabbing for the lighter knob, she pulled it out and pressed it
to the end of the cigarette. Taking a first, long drag, she leaned back in the
seat and took several more deep breaths. Then she reached to put the lighter
knob back in and missed the hole, sending the knob falling to the floorboard. 
"Oh, fuck it," she whispered under her breath and left the knob where it lay.

Then Amanda closed her eyes and tried her best to relax.  Moments later, she
started the ignition, turned on the AC and cracked a window. Looking around for
the phone, she found it and placed it gently on the passenger side seat. 
Glancing around to take in her surroundings, she slowly moved the cigarette
around with her right hand and her left hand fell to her lap.  And she waited.

Two minutes later, her right eye opened a tiny bit and stared at the tape deck.
Then her right arm reached out and hit the PLAY button. 

The silence of the garage was broken by the unmistakable sound of a woman at
the height of sexual arousal. 

Immediately, both her eyes shot open and both hands went to the tape deck
volume controls. Finding the knob, she instinctively turned it.

The wrong way. 

The cigarette fell from her mouth as she moved closer to the tape deck, quickly
punching the STOP button.  She instinctively leaned up in the seat, throwing
her head from side to side to get a quick glance around the parking level.  As
far as she could tell, she was alone. 

Taking a heavy sigh, she leaned back into her seat.  Then she jumped again as
she felt the heat of the cigarette on her thigh. 

"Shit!" she yelled as she moved quickly towards the passenger side of the Grand
Am, brushing the fag away with her left hand. It rolled off her pants leg onto
the seat, then finally onto the floorboard, where she quickly stomped on it
with her left foot. 

"Damn, you, Amanda!" she hissed to no one in particular, as she collapsed into
the passenger seat, her left leg still draped over the driver's seat. She
stayed there for almost five minutes, doing nothing but inhaling and exhaling
the smoky air. And staring at the tape deck.

Then she lit another cigarette. 

And reached for the controls of the tape deck.

And waited. 

Two cigarettes later, she was still waiting. She looked at her watch. 4pm. She
adjusted the waistband of her pants, took some wet wipes from the glove
compartment and washed her hands. Then she turned off the tape deck.  Pausing
for a few more moments to catch her breath, she picked up the phone and punched
the button again.  

"Damn it, Mario, where the hell are you?  Hurry up and call back. Please.  I
NEED YOU!  Now!  I'm not even going to try and find and interview Davenport. 
But if I don't hear from you in the next ten minutes, I'm going to go down
there and track YOU down.  So please, PLEASE get back to me ASAP!  TEN
minutes!"

Putting the phone back on the passenger seat, she lit another cigarette and
stared at the tape deck.

Five minutes later, Amanda's Grand Am roared out of the parking lot of the 15th
precinct garage and headed downtown. 


"Write what you want, how you want, and don't worry about the rest of the
world.  If you do it long enough, eventually they'll catch up."

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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